Black Hearts
by Nightmare Prince
Summary: "It's ironic how those born off Tojours Pur will always find each other in the end" - Draco Malfoy reminisces over the fate of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black whilst at the wedding of two of its youngest descendants: The grandson of Narcissa and the great-granddaughter of Cedrella. For Beneath their stained lineage there beats the hearts of Blacks. Drabble! Gift!Fic


**Black Hearts**

_**-Written as a Christmas Gift for ArtOholic-**_

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There's only one word to describe his son's bride:

Breathtaking. . .

He laughed at that, that he of all people would think of a Weasley as beautiful. But the bride wasn't a pureblood ginger, no. She wore her mother's beauty through her father's colouring.

Lustrous ringlets of ruby hair cascading down to the small of her back with bright blue eyes that sparkle with wit and a desire for knowledge that he's only ever seen once before. She's pale, a delicate cream that seems almost black against the porcelain skin and platinum hair of the family she's about to marry into.

She's smiling and it's a crooked smile because her teeth may just be a smidge uneven, an obvious reminder of her mother before he had hit the woman with a tooth-growing curse.

He notices a drop of blood smeared across her fingertip, a tiny blossom created from the smallest of pinpricks and he starts at the sight. Because it's stupid to be so taken aback by the sight of her blood and her bridal jewels, but he knows that this isn't just a wedding . . . it's a homecoming.

Because her blood was red and her eyes were blue but her heart was as Black as his.

For all the stains of mud and time and poverty, Cedrella had brought the blood of the star-christened into The Burrow.

And Draco smiles to himself as he sits back in his chair and clasps a wrist around that of his lady wife's as they look on as their son's jaw drops open in stunned reverence. The sight takes him back to his own wedding day and he sighs in nostalgia, chuckling when the best man, a Potter with a shaggy mane of inky black cuffs Scorpius across the head.

It's ironic how those born of _Tojours Pur _will always find each other in the end. Doreah Black had married a Potter just as Narcissa Black had wed a Malfoy and their lines were soon to intermingle once again in the form of Albus and Cassiopeia, two hearts that beat as one.

Then the bride is standing before the groom and the entire crowd has fallen silent, whispered fragments of a family long since fallen to ruin weaving through the gardens as vows are exchanged and passionate kisses are traded in blissful harmony of those newly wed.

The father of the bride looks fit to gag and Draco can't help but roll his eyes at the sight. Times have changed but for all intents and purposes, people like the Weasel had not. He supposed he shouldn't refer to the man as a weasel from this point on seeing as there was now a distinct possibility of them sharing grandchildren.

He wondered if Weasley had realised that they were both but long lost cousins, both descendants of the House of Black that was just now finding its former glory by the union of estranged children.

And he catches the eyes of a brunette, the spitting image of the bride though older and darker in colouring and he chances a grin. She responds and it's all that they can do to not laugh openly, something they can never do in public lest people pry into their past.

But it was obvious to him that destiny had always had its plans. A Malfoy and a Granger had found each other in the end, even though for a quirk of fate they would have been siblings and not lovers. But the love that was denied their parents shown so brightly between the Scorpion and his Rose that Draco for once felt no regrets that he had shied away from the chance of making Granger a Malfoy.

It's not a simple way to live but it's a wedding and a homecoming and the first beginnings of the resurgence of the House of Black because even though their blood is red, with eyes of azure and silver and hair of fire and white gold.

They're Weasleys and they're Malfoys and they're Potters and every other little family that had once reigned as those with purest blood. But there's one thing that they all have and always will have in common.

Their hearts are Black.

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_**A/N: This is a short drabble flashfic that my plot bunnies made me write and I thought since it ships Scorose then I shall have to no doubt dedicate and gift it to the writer who turned me onto the Scorose ship: ArtOholic**_

_**Merry Christmas Eve, all.**_


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